My Pernicious Lady
by Winged-Violoncelle
Summary: In the shadows, a certain Dark Elf broods in his thoughts.


**A/N: Very short one-shot. I'm on Eöl's side. I honestly think Eöl needs more love, despite his weirdness :). My first _Silmarillion_ story. Reviews and constructive criticism especially are much appreciated. :)**

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**My Pernicious Lady**

_Nobody asked her to stumble into my sight. Nobody asked her._

Eöl's hands twisted and writhed around the corners of his garments, as he sat brooding glumly in the darkness. No, he had never asked for her presence. He had never _wanted_ her presence, that was what he believed. The Noldor were a proud, disagreeable race that had once abandoned the lands of Middle-earth for some obscure place in the West which mattered not. They did not love these lands. They only returned to seek their lost treasures, and to wreak havoc on these lands by doing so. They were infestations that ought to be removed from Middle-earth, along with that troublesome Morgoth who, in a way, was forced into Middle-earth by their crafts. No, Eöl wanted nothing to do with the Kinslayers at all, these disturbers of peace. Eöl would not allow them to invade the comfort of darkness that was his. Eöl would never allow his own peace to be disturbed by these pests, that was what he believed.

But she came, just like that, without warning, into his lands and into his sight. _Nobody asked her_, Eöl kept telling himself. Nobody but _she_ was to blame. She was not supposed to have been lost at all, let alone in his land. She was not supposed to have looked so unfathomably fair and lovely under the moonlight. She was not _supposed_ to catch his eye, let alone steal his heart in the flick of a second just like that. But she did it, no doubt by some Noldorin sorcery that he knew nothing about. Eöl hated her for such sorcery. But he also loved her. Desired her. It was a gnawing, burning urge that he had never known to exist in himself before, and he was simultaneously fascinated and disgusted.

At first his head had warned him against it; she was a Noldo, and no good ever came out of dealing with the Kinslayers, he was sure of it. But desire swept over him and drowned him and mingled with hatred, and suddenly evolved into a hunger to dominate. Yes, this was a chance to triumph over a Noldo. He wished to claim this Noldo his.

_She did not resist. Why did she not resist?_ A part of Eöl had wanted her to resist, to struggle ceaselessly against his arts and his imprisonment, so that he could feel a sweet sensation of revenge against those who had slain his kins and infested Beleriand. But she did not, and she walked with him under the starlit sky, and they smiled together at the scents of Nan Elmoth and the breezes of the night. As time passed Eöl became more and more convinced that she was his, and he loved and despised the notion and was torn. _I hoped to torture her. Nay, she poisons me. She poisons me instead._

Then there was Maeglin. Yes, Maeglin, the living proof that she was his. Eöl had not loved his eyes or his stature. Too much akin to the Noldor, he thought. When he learned of Maeglin's reverence of Gondolin he was wrathful, and he loved Maeglin entirely no more, for Maeglin's presence became a poison too, a reminder that he loved a slayer of his Teleri kin. _It was an ill omen_, he had thought, and his thoughts proved true as he stood and faced his wife and son in front of the seat of the ruler of Gondolin. The illusions he had weaved to ease his inner tortures were shattered; if she had wilfully belonged to him before there was none of such will left now. She had escaped him at last, and under the protection of her hateful kin would never be induced to return again. She had escaped his binds even as he so fervently held on. _Cruel lady! Pernicious lady! How you shatter my heart!_

If she would not be his again she would not take Maeglin, Eöl thought. Maeglin must remain his. Maeglin must be forever by his side to scorch his heart every time he looks upon the face that much resembled hers, to cruelly expose to him the grave error he had made in deciding to house a Kinslayer at all. And if Maeglin did not want return to him, he would still not let her have him. It would not be fair. Maeglin was the living proof that she was his. He would not let her and the Kinslayers take that away, too. There had to be _something_ left for him, dead or alive. Eöl would not leave empty-handed. Eöl would not so easily renounce his belongings to the Kinslayers just like that.

_The javelin, yes. No! No! _Eöl's hands tore at his garments now, and he writhed in the darkness as if in physical agony. He wondered if he should go and tell the truth to the figures who stood by his darkness, but any senses that he had were swallowed by a great fire that mingled love and hate and he knew not what else. Suddenly he stood and burst into a shrill fit of laughter, his gloomy countenance distorted in a terrible mixture of pleasure and pain, and there was something glittering on it that could not possibly have been tears.

The figures by him whispered in dubiousness and wondered if he had gone mad. _Mad, yes, I am mad, _Eöl thought as he laughed harder and dug his nails into the walls. _I have been poisoned by madness ever since you stumbled into my view. And now it is my turn. It is my turn to poison you at last!_

_Aredhel, Aredhel my pernicious lady, you shall be mine now. You shall never escape me now!_

And so Eöl continued to laugh in the darkness at his final triumph, until dawn came, and the figures by him opened the door of his cell and dragged him all over the place and finally cast him over the walls of the despicable city. The filthy air in Gondolin has never possessed such a fine scent until now, Eöl thought as his body fell. The guards who had cast him had hoped to frighten him with menacing words, but he heard none of it and felt no fear. There was only overwhelming joy, a burning sensation of ecstasy he had not felt since he first glimpsed upon her lovely, moon-lit face in the dark woods of Nan Elmoth.

He closed his eyes, and a twisted smile gathered at his lips.

_Aredhel, Aredhel my pernicious lady – we will soon meet again._


End file.
